


Devotion

by amandalee727



Series: Legacy [3]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha Wade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Historical Clan AU, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mpreg, Omega Peter Parker, Omega Tony Stark, mentions of past torture and abuse, the mental health issues are because duh Wade, the third part of the Legacy series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-05 00:43:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17314871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandalee727/pseuds/amandalee727
Summary: Being the heir apparent to one of the largest clans on the continent can be daunting. Peter is faced with constant expectations from his parents, his siblings, and his people. Among these is the expectation to find a mate and continue the alliance that his parents risked their lives for.When a known mercenary rides into town under mysterious circumstances, Peter must choose between his own happiness and the happiness of the clan he will one day rule.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the third part of the Legacy series! It's been a long time coming, but this is finally starting!
> 
> In case you missed the first two parts, and you're really only here for the Spideypool goodness/aren't that into Stuckony, I'll give you a synopsis of the world that this takes place in.
> 
> Basically, this is set in an ancient clan type of world, where each clan has a reigning Lord (or three in this case). This world does include Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, and though it's not the main focus of the series, there will be a lot of it mentioned, as well as male pregnancies. In the past two parts, we saw Tony and Steve, in an arranged marriage, fight off Hydra in order to preserve Omega rights and just general peace. Bucky joins the fray later in the second part, and the three of them eventually form a triad bond. Together they raised Peter, Harley (Tony and Steve's biological sons), and Rebecca (Tony and Bucky's biological daughter).
> 
> Feel free to go back and read them if they sound interesting to you! You don't necessarily have to read them to understand this part, but it would no doubt help a lot. I'll, of course, try to explain details as much as I can through the narrative.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the new story in the series! Thank you so much for all the support I received in the last two parts! Feedback and positivity are always great motivators for an author! <3 :)

Peter wrapped the fur around his shoulders a little tighter. The metal of the golden circlet that he just put on was cold where it rested against the skin of his forehead. He exhaled slowly; saw his breath in the air as the heat rose. It was the dead of winter in their clan, and all around him, people were desperately stoking fires and doing their best to keep warm.

“Peter! There you are. Father was looking for you,” a soft feminine voice came from behind him. The Omega turned to look and spotted his sister, Rebecca. She was grinning, her usual conspiratorial glint in her gray-blue eyes. She was the spitting image of their Papa, people always said, with the attitude of his younger years.

“Oh? It’s much too early for any type of clan business. Can’t I at least have breakfast?” Peter sounded hopeful, frowning a bit at his half-sibling. Sometimes, being the heir apparent to the largest clan in the continent was a little too much for Peter’s liking.

His Beta sister fixed him with an unconvinced glance. “You should take that up with him. I’m just the messenger. Good luck!” She cackled and rushed past him, dark curls whipping in the wind as she retreated.

Peter watched her for a moment and let out a groan before he turned around and headed toward the building Lord Rogers used for work and clan business. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Granted, Peter had slept in quite a bit. He peeked at the sun. Yeah, a little too close to midday for his father’s liking. His booted feet trudged ever onward, though. Duty called, whether Peter liked it or not.

He knocked, waited to hear his father’s serious voice give him permission to enter before he swung the door open and closed it behind him. Steve Rogers looked up from something he was writing and raised an eyebrow at his eldest son.

“Ah, Peter. I was hoping you’d be awake before lunch was had,” Steve remarked, a slight smirk on his lips. Peter huffed but didn’t get a chance to say anything in reply before his mother walked in from a back room, where they stored parchments and inks.

Tony fixed his son with a soft smile. “Steve, don’t give him such a hard time. He turned eighteen last night. I’m sure he’s nursing the usual migraine that comes with being of age,” his mother said softly, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder. The older Omega turned his full attention to Peter next.

“Good /afternoon/, darling son,” Tony teased, the brown eyes that he shared with Peter glinting mischievously. Peter rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest underneath the thick fur he was wearing to block out the winter cold.

“Okay, I get it. Please tell me Rebecca wasn’t lying and there’s actually something you needed me for besides berating me for my celebration,” Peter replied to his parents. Both of his parents just looked amused, but luckily, they let that particular topic go for now.

Steve stood and crossed the room to hand him a few letters. They were personally addressed to him, from a few of the neighboring clans that they were allies with. He opened the first one and his nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Oh, please, no. I’ve been of age for one day. I’m not interested,” Peter said quickly, not bothering to look at the others. Marriage proposals from young Alpha sons of royalty. No, thank you.

Tony sighed and took the letters from him. “See? I told you not to show him. We knew what his answer was going to be,” he told Steve with a quiet tone. Peter gave a disdainful glance at the letters Tony tossed onto Steve’s writing desk.

“He is right here in the room, thank you,” Peter protested. His father was looking at him, a somewhat thoughtful expression on his face. That was never good; it meant that he was concocting some sort of plan.

“Not even the Osborn heir? You and young Harry get along very well. And their place by the river would be of great advantage to our trade,” Steve said. That got a swift thwack of parchment against his arm from Tony.

“Steven Grant Rogers, our son’s happiness is worth more than a damn river,” Tony said sharply. Steve looked a little sheepish at that, giving a silent apologetic look to his mate before turning to his son.

“Of course, I know that. I was just mentioning it because he didn’t bother to look through all of the offers is all. Harry is a fine young man,” Steve defended. Peter blinked slowly and pulled a face.

“Harry? You want me to marry Harry? We’ve known each other since we were children. He’s like my brother. Though speaking of brothers, Harley has always had a crush on him. Maybe you should arrange that,” Peter said with a laugh.

Tony scoffed and crossed his arms. “There isn’t going to be any arranging. I was firm with Steve when we had you. We aren’t forcing any of you into anything. Arrangement worked out for us, but it isn’t always such a nice story. I want my children happy above all,” the older Omega said resolutely.

“Take the letters, at least. You can burn them if you so wish, but they’re addressed to you, Peter. I saved them until you were of age, but now they’re your responsibility to reply to or ignore,” Steve said as he handed the parchments back to Peter. Peter gave an exaggerated sigh and took them, albeit reluctantly.

He trudged back out into the cold, and he was half-tempted to just let the parchments fall into the snow and blow away in the harsh wind, but he supposed a proper burning would be nice. He really should write back to Harry at least. Something along the lines of, ‘Are you insane? Marry my brother next year’.

He had heard the story of his parents meeting a thousand times. Their marriage had been arranged of course, and his Papa had come along later after Peter was born. Papa being the lost Alpha mate of his father, thought dead, only to come back after his father had married again. They’d worked it out, of course, the three of them forming a triad bond and raising three children together. Despite that lovely story, Peter knew arrangements didn’t always work out like that. No, he wasn’t sure he wanted a mate at all. He certainly didn’t want to mate another royal he barely knew.

It seemed naïve, but Peter couldn’t help but feel that love was out there. True love, some deep feeling that would make him want to mate, without a doubt in his mind.

Later in the evening, as Peter was drafting his letter to Harry, he heard the door to his dwelling swing open. He and Harley had moved out a year or so ago, into their own space. The two Omega boys lived well together. They definitely got along more with each other than they got along with their sister. She was a troublemaker, always off hunting and adventuring. Peter and Harley preferred to tinker with their mother, inventing and spending time with scholastics. 

He felt Harley peer over his shoulder, and he heard his younger brother squeak in protest. Peter had to fight off a snicker of amusement. “Peter! Please, tell me you’re not actually sending that! I’m only sixteen you know; no doubt Harry isn’t even thinking about me! He obviously wants you!” Harley’s spluttered protests came with reddened cheeks as the younger boy sat in a nearby wooden chair.

“Hush, Harley. He only sent it out of obligation. No doubt his father wants the match. And I’m going to make him think about you by sending him this reply. Can’t your older brother do you a favor?” Peter tried his best to look innocent. He laughed as Harley grabbed the paper, crumpled it up and threw it into the burning hearth.

“Plenty of parchment where that came from,” Peter teased him further, but he set down his feather. He gave his brother a serious look. “All these letters…I don’t want to marry these pompous dignitaries, Harl,” he told his younger brother honestly.

Harley looked at him, deadpan, and then shrugged. “Then don’t. You know mother won’t make you. And we all know he’s the real reigns of this clan.”

Peter thought that over and nodded. Of course, he knew that his parents would never force him to marry. It would go against everything they’d fought for, in the early days of the Rogers and Stark clans combining. They’d fought a war for these very rights. Technically, Peter had been there too. Their mother had been forced to fight a terrible war while pregnant, which made him all the more remarkable in Peter’s eyes.

“I know you’re right. I just feel like there’s still a certain…responsibility that’s expected of me,” Peter admitted quietly. He picked at the fur that was draped over his shoulders. Even inside, the chill was present during this time of year.

“Horse shit,” Harley snorted. If their father were here, Peter was sure that would have earned quite the lecture. Peter wasn’t their father, though, so he let it slide. “Yeah, you’re heir apparent. But that doesn’t mean you need some Alpha by your side to take over for the parents one day.”

Peter knew that was true, of course. That had always been instilled in them, especially once they’d presented as Omega, both at sixteen. Harley had just had his first heat this past summer. Luckily it had been relatively mild, as the first few heats of an Omega’s life tend to be.

“You’re right, of course. I’m worrying for nothing,” Peter sighed and shifted in his seat. He thought for a moment before he threw another playful grin over to his brother. “Though, you should seriously consider letting me send my planned answer to Harry.”

The only response he got was an unintelligible screech and a light thwack on his shoulder from the book that Harley held in his hand. Peter laughed and ran off, which caused it to turn into a slight playful tussle between brothers.

Despite the light-hearted ending to the evening, Peter still considered the letters that were on his writing desk once he retired to bed. Now that he was of age, his fate seemed like it was hovering over him ominously. Heir apparent. Expected to marry and birth children to carry on the alliance that his parents had risked their lives for.

Peter sighed and turned around in his bed furs. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep, not wanting to think about Alphas or marriage or pups in the slightest.

Morning came as a fairly rude awakening when there was commotion outside, the sounds of alarms and panicked voices, along with rushing horse hooves. Peter groaned and got up sharply, glancing out the fogged window. He couldn’t see anything from here, but he knew that whatever it was, he needed to go down there and address it alongside the rest of his family.

He dressed quickly and walked outside, winter boots stomping along the thin layer of snow on the ground. He looked immediately concerned when he saw guards surrounding a horse with two barely visible figures on it.

His parents stood to the side, their faces serious as they tried to assess the situation, and they hardly noticed Peter coming up to join them. He tried to peek into the commotion and see who the figures were, but it was no use.

“Please! Don’t hurt him!” Came a soft voice. A child’s voice.

Peter glanced to his parents who looked immediately more concerned as well, and Steve moved into the fray, making the horses of the guards separate, creating a path for their Lord.

“What’s going on here? What’s the reasoning for their capture?” Peter heard his father’s voice boom. This caused quite a bit of the muttering and commotion to quiet down. 

“Lord Rogers! This man is wanted across the clans as a known murderer and mercenary!” One guard said sharply, his sword pointed at a large, cloaked figure who seemed to be slumped over, injured. Peter could see more clearly now, and he could make out a smaller figure as well, a small girl with brown skin and dark curls.

“And the girl? Has she committed a crime to your knowledge?” Steve said with a serious frown. The guards hesitated and shook their heads. “Stand down! I won’t tolerate an innocent child being harassed due to baseless accusations toward a wounded man.”

The little girl looked relieved, her large brown eyes tearing up slightly. “Thank you! Thank you! Please, my dad’s hurt. He needs help!” She begged, turning her attention back to the cloaked man.

Steve nodded and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Everything is fine, little one. We’ll get your father to a doctor.” He glanced around and spotted Peter. “Peter! Take them both to Bruce. Your mother and I will deal with the commotion,” Steve said sharply.

Peter hesitated a moment before he nodded and moved quickly to grab the lead of the horse that the two newcomers were on. He moved them away from the crowd and the guards, toward the medical building where Bruce was no doubt either seeing a patient or working on his science.

There was silence between the three of them for a few steps, besides the girl’s sobbing and the man’s labored breathing. Peter looked back at the pair and saw the little girl pressing onto a bleeding wound.

“Please, dad. Please, don’t die. You can’t die! Don’t leave me alone!” The girl cried with a sob. Peter felt his heart twinge at her pain and picked up his pace, rushing them now that he could see how badly the man was hurt.

Peter knocked loudly at the medical building’s front door and then went to help the little girl off of the horse. She didn’t look like she wanted to be separated, but Peter soothed her.

“It’s okay, we’re getting your father help. It’ll be okay,” he told her, even without truly knowing that. She sniffed and looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Bruce came rushing out and hardly addressed Peter once he saw the severity of the man’s case. He and an intern of his pulled the cloaked man off of the horse and moved him into the building. The little girl tried to pull away and follow, but Peter held her back.

“Let me go! I need to follow him!” She shouted, but Peter held on steadfast and knelt to the girl’s level. He managed to calm her down eventually and she crumbled against him, sobbing into his shoulder.

“Shhh, I’ve got you. Our doctors are working on your father now, they’ll do everything they can to save him. You’re being very brave,” he told her quietly. She sniffled and sobbed for a few minutes before she pulled away, finally seeming to look at Peter’s face.

Her eye caught the circlet resting on Peter’s head and she looked curious as she rubbed her tears away from her eyes. “Are you a prince?” She asked softly, a childlike curiosity to her tone.

Peter smiled gently and nodded as he picked her up and moved her into the building where it was warmer. There was a main area where patients waited, and a fire was raging in the hearth. He set her down by it so she could warm up. “Yes, I am. My name is Peter, though. No need for formalities. What’s your name?” He asked her, curious but also wanting to distract her.

She sniffled and looked at the circlet again before answering. “Ellie. My name is Ellie. Can I wear your tiara?” She asked curiously, eyes bright. Peter couldn’t say no to that and didn’t even bother to correct her on the name of the headpiece.

He smiled and nodded, plucking the circlet from his curls and putting it on her head. It was a little big for her, but her hair was much thicker than Peter’s, so it rested on her head decently enough.

“Perfect fit. I think this makes you an honorary princess now,” Peter said with a smile before he moved to bow to her with an exaggerated flourish. “Your Highness.”

That made Ellie giggle, though her tone still sounded sad. Peter sat with her, keeping her company by the fire. She kept giving worried glances to the stairs where the more private rooms were. Peter could hear movement and Bruce’s low voice as he directed his crew.

Eventually, the little girl’s exhaustion seemed to catch up with her. She fell asleep slumped on Peter’s shoulder. Peter moved her gently onto the couch and covered her with a fur. She didn’t seem to be injured at all, just fatigued. Though Peter knew she could probably do with some water, perhaps sleep was best for now.

He sat by her sleeping form for the next couple of hours before he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He turned to see Bruce’s serious expression and his heart clenched as he expected the worst.

“The man is stable for now. However, the wound was deep and severe. He lost a lot of blood. It will take time for him to recover,” Bruce told Peter in a quiet tone. He glanced at Ellie’s sleeping form. “I will need to check her for injuries as well but seeing as she doesn’t seem to have anything worth immediate worry, we should let her sleep,” he continued.

Peter nodded and gently stood. He picked Ellie up and walked her upstairs to be with her father. There was another little cot set up in the room where the cloaked man was recovering. Peter settled Ellie into the furs carefully, not wanting to wake her. Peter’s circlet fell from her head, onto the pillow and he moved to pick it up.

He hesitated a moment before he put the circlet on the bedside table near her cot. His mother might give him a hard time for leaving it here with strangers, but he wanted the girl to have something good to wake up to, and there was plenty of silver in their lands.

He stepped away after tucking her in and turned to look at the mysterious man. He nearly gasped as he saw the man’s skin. He had so many scars. Just on his face alone, Peter counted four. A long one across the man’s forehead and brow and continuing onto his cheek over his eye. One along his jawline, another at his lip. One at his other eyebrow, the scar tissue creating a clear line where hair did not grow anymore.

He took a cautious step toward him and glanced at the wound on the man’s stomach. It was wrapped tightly with clean gauze. His chest was left bare, and Peter could see many more scars littering his skin. There were so many, Peter could barely count them all.

Beyond that, however, the man was…surprisingly attractive. He was broad set, very well-muscled, and his facial features were pleasant despite the scaring. Peter wondered what color his eyes were, and then immediately berated himself for such a silly thought.

What caught his attention next, however, was the man’s scent. It seemed to surround Peter at that moment, filling up every one of his senses. It was like the man’s scent was all he could concentrate on, all he cared about.

Alpha.

Peter let out a little squeak of surprise as he realized what the man’s scent was doing to him. He backed out of the room, with one more look at them both, and scrambled down the stairs.

At Bruce’s raised eyebrow, Peter blushed and managed to stutter out, “She’s still sleeping. I’ll leave you to it.”

He left the medical building in more of a rush, grabbing his fur and throwing it over his shoulders yet again. The fresh air seemed like a blessing at that moment and Peter took many deep breaths of it before he found himself in the communal areas again, where much discussion was going on still.

“We will have a meeting tonight with all the clan who are able to attend,” Steve said sharply as he talked to one of the guards who had been responsible for having the man and his daughter surrounded.

“Lord Rogers, that man is a known criminal!” The guard protested. “He can’t be here for any good reason, surely?”

Steve frowned and looked like he was about to say something, but Peter’s mother stepped up, putting a gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder. “He receives a trial. Just like any other who comes to our lands,” Tony said with a firm tone.

Steve turned to look at Peter next, looking tired. “Peter…how are they doing?” He asked his son, taking him away from the protesting guards so they can speak in private. Peter had to wonder just how bad of a reputation that Alpha had in order to receive this amount of backlash.

“He’s stable, Bruce says. The girl seems to be uninjured, just exhausted. They’re both resting now,” Peter answered quietly. “Is it true, father? Is he a mercenary?” He asked curiously.

Steve sighed and shrugged. “I do not know. I’ve heard the name before, but there is no way to determine if that man is who some of the guards are claiming he is,” his father answered as he put a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter was immediately curious. If his father knew the name, then the man had to be notorious. “And? Who do they claim he is?” Peter asked, feeling almost short of breath from his curiosity. His father’s face became even more serious if that was possible.

“They call him Deadpool.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is here! Thank you so much for all the support I got on the first chapter! All of your comments and kudos mean so much to me! <3
> 
> Enjoy! :)

The mercenary known as Deadpool had quite the reputation among the nearby clans. According to multiple accounts, he took incredibly nefarious jobs for gold, and he didn’t have a line that he wouldn’t cross. The name struck fear in many people, and no one was sure who this man was or what made him choose that life. He was almost like a ghost story.

As soon as Peter heard the name from his father’s mouth, he felt something like ice crawl in his veins. Could it be? Could that injured man be the infamous, immoral mercenary that everyone feared? And the little girl was his daughter? There hadn’t been any reports of a daughter existing, that’s for sure.

“Deadpool? We’re not even sure who the man behind that mask is. There are dozens of baseless accusations against what might as well be a shadow!” Peter said seriously as he crossed his arms to keep out the cold. “If there’s a trial for him here, nothing will stand.”

Steve sighed and nodded, obviously agreeing with his son. “You’re right. The actual evidence against him is nil to none. And finding any witnesses could take months, maybe even years. And we can’t hold the man for that long.”

A silence passed between father and son as they both processed this. “So, what do we do? Some members of the guard are convinced they know his identity. But…he has a child with him, father. She’s just a little girl,” Peter said softly.

“Which is why our options are few. I can’t see there being anything done, not with such little evidence. However, the people may not exactly like that option,” Steve answered as he looked over his shoulder warily to the few guards who were still fuming.

There was a sudden commotion as a party on horseback came into town. The hunting party that had been sent out earlier that morning, led by Bucky Barnes and Peter’s half-sister. He smiled as he saw them, feeling relief that they returned safely, and with quite a catch in tow if the multiple boar and deer strapped to the horses were anything to go by.

“Papa!” Peter called to his second father, running to him as Bucky jumped off his horse. Bucky grinned and pulled Peter in for a tight hug. As they embraced, Peter mumbled under his breath, “You’ve made it back just in time. A situation is at hand.”

Bucky pulled away slightly and frowned at that, before looking over Peter’s shoulder to glance at Steve. The serious look they shared seemed to be almost a method of communication. Peter went to his sister as Bucky trudged forward to talk in soft tones with Steve.

“What happened? Surely you didn’t let the kingdom fall while we were gone?” Rebecca said with a roguish grin as she jumped from her horse. Her long black curls whipped around her with a certain air of regality and power. For only being fifteen, she was quite the warrior.

Peter sighed and helped her with some of her gear as they led the tired horses to the stables to be fed and watered. “Not anything quite so serious, but it’s still pressing,” he told her in soft tones. He didn’t want to be overheard.

“Well, now you’ve got me curious, big brother!” She said as she led her black stallion into his stall. Peter eyed the two stable hands that were helping the party. There were way too many ears here. The less who knew about all of the details, the better. At least until they had everything sorted out. It was never good to cause unnecessary chaos and speculation amongst the people.

“With me,” Peter told her as he led her out of the barn. They walked back to the lodging that he and Harley lived in. As they entered, they spotted their middle brother at his writing desk. Harley jumped a little and looked back at them with a huff.

“Gods above! You know we have a mercenary in town at the moment!” Harley chastised as he turned to look at his two siblings. Peter sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he heard the inevitable shriek of surprise from their sister.

“A what?!” Rebecca shouted, and Peter was quick to shush her, even though they were indoors. “Who?” She asked, this time in more of a stage whisper, teeth gritted in panic.

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, that is what I brought you here to discuss. While you and Papa were out hunting, an injured man and his daughter rode in on horseback. Some of the guards claim to know him. They think he’s…Deadpool.”

That got a shocked silence as a response before Rebecca went to slump in a nearby chair. “All the fucking nine hells…seriously?” She said with awe, but there was fear in her tone as well.

“Watch your language,” Peter said with a firm tone, not letting it slip by this time. Sometimes he was quite a bit like father. And as always, that only got an eye roll from Rebecca, who paid no mind to any rules.

“Yeah, okay /father/. But seriously. Deadpool? He couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to ride into the heart of one of the strongest, most populated clans on the continent,” she scoffed as she kicked off her winter boots and crossed her arms.

Peter looked unsure. “He had a little girl with him. His daughter, if her words are to be believed. And he was gravely injured. Couldn’t even speak as they rode in. Maybe it wasn’t his choice, but hers? Maybe she isn’t aware of who he really is?” Peter speculated with a shrug.

Harley sighed and shook his head. “Doesn’t even matter. The guards are calling for a hanging, but the parent’s hands are tied. There’s no evidence to back up any of their claims. We can’t just hang people on baseless accusations, especially since the real identity of this Deadpool isn’t even known,” he reasoned.

Peter sighed and nodded his agreement with his brother. “Yes, but the issue is that the people will no doubt call for a hanging anyway. It’s quite the mess,” Peter admitted as he sat down in a nearby chair as well. “We’ll have to keep a strong stance on this, no matter what some people ask for.”

Rebecca huffed and leaned back in her chair more comfortably. “Has the man said anything?” She asked curiously, glancing to Peter.

Peter shook his head. “No, he hasn’t spoken to anyone, that I’m aware of. He was silent when I left the medical building not even an hour ago. Resting and recovering along with his daughter. Whatever they’ve been through, it was harrowing.”

Harley raised an eyebrow, getting an idea. It was obvious with how the blues of his eyes sparkled as the proverbial wheels turned in his head. They had their father’s color, but their mother’s spark of intelligence. “You should visit them more, try to get to know them both. You’ve already met the girl, she should trust you. If you can get closer to the man, maybe you can find something out.”

That was certainly an idea. Peter felt slightly guilty thinking about it, but Harley had a point. The girl seemed to trust him well enough. It wouldn’t seem odd for him to come in and check on her. “Perhaps you’ve got a good idea for once, little brother,” Peter teased. That earned him a scoff and a soft thwack of parchment against his arm.

“I’m full of good ideas!” Harley protested, but there was a slight smile on the younger Omega’s face. Peter laughed softly and glanced at their sister, who didn’t seem to protest the idea either.

“It could work…you could use your devilish Omega charms on him. Assuming he’s Alpha, that is,” Rebecca said with a wicked grin.

“He is,” Peter answered quickly, and then he blushed brightly as both of his siblings turned their curious and knowing looks to him. “I mean! It was hard not to catch his scent! That’s all!” Peter said with a little bluster, his face getting redder by the second.

Harley cackled then, putting down the tools he’d been using to write. Peter had a brief moment of curiosity about what Harley was writing, but he couldn’t think on that now. “Peter! Please don’t tell me you’ve taken a liking to a dangerous mercenary!”

Peter immediately protested. “We don’t know if he’s a mercenary! And don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t even shared one word with the man,” he said with a huff as he crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

“So convincing,” Rebecca drawled, that ever-present roguish grin on her face. She clapped her hands, looking decided. “It’s settled, then. Peter’s our mole,” she said with a firm nod and an air of mischief that Peter was honestly wary of.

Peter sighed at his sibling’s scheming and stood tiredly. “Okay, okay. I’ll see if I can find anything out. You’re all horrible influences, by the way,” Peter said shortly as he walked by. He snuck a look at Harley’s parchment and saw that the letter was addressed to Harry. Peter hid a knowing smirk and decided to leave it alone for now.

He really hoped that worked out. It would be good for all involved, although Norman was no doubt hoping Peter would accept a marriage to his son, seeing as it was he and not Harley who was going to rule the Stark-Rogers clan. And if there was an agreement, Harley and Harry would be under strict supervision with all the possible courting rules in place, considering Harley was only sixteen and it would be prospective. Still, it would be really nice to have his best friend become his brother one day.

When evening came, Peter stepped out of his lodging again and made his way to the medical building. The chaos from earlier in the day had settled and everyone was back to their normal tasks, for now. The public clan-wide meeting had been postponed to tomorrow, giving his parents and the council time to discuss things first.

He opened the door and looked for Bruce on the main floor but didn’t see him. So, he decided to walk up to the room he knew Ellie and the mysterious man were being kept. He hesitated a moment before he knocked.

Silence followed before Peter could hear little sniffles and movement. Suddenly, a little girls voice rang out in a sad tone, “Come in!” That was definitely Ellie. He hated that her tone sounded so grief-stricken, but at least she seemed to be healthy and recovering from her exhaustion.

Peter pushed the door open with some concern, but immediately smiled when he saw her with his circlet on her head. He’d known it would help her through all of this, and he was glad to see he’d been right. “Hello, Ellie. I just came to check on you,” Peter said quietly as he shut the door behind himself.

A quick glance to the cot in the corner showed Peter that the man was still asleep and recovering from his wounds, but he was breathing. Ellie smiled up at him as best as she could, but she’d obviously been crying before Peter got there.

“He won’t wake up. I’ve tried and tried, Prince Peter,” Ellie said brokenly. Peter felt his heartbreak at her distress, and he walked over to her and put her down on the other cot across the room from her father’s.

“I know, I’m sorry. All we can do now and see if the gods will save him. You’re being very brave, Ellie,” he told her softly as he took off her boots and tucked her in. He could plainly see from the bags under eyes that she still needed sleep. And an empty tray by her bed told him she’d already eaten. “I’ll watch over him for you, okay? You get some sleep,” he told her quietly.

She looked unsure but then eventually nodded as she let her head rest back against the pillow. When Peter went to get up, she quickly grabbed at his arm. “Tell me a story? Please? Dad did every night as we traveled,” she said with another soft sniffle.

Peter nodded immediately, not wanting to turn down the little girl’s request. He felt curious about what she meant by traveling. Traveling from where? Why was her father injured? Who had done it? But he thought better than to ask these types of questions to a girl who was obviously exhausted. “Of course I will,” he answered before settling back down onto her cot with her. He thought for a moment before beginning.

“Once, there lived a brave princess from a faraway land, who wanted to protect her father….”

_Wade was lost. He stumbled through a barren, gray landscape, peering into the fog that surrounded him. Where was he? Where was his daughter? He needed to get back to her, somehow, in some way._

_“Hello?!” He called raggedly, his bare feet barely making it across the dull, rocky land of…wherever he was._

_There was movement all around him suddenly, the stillness of the fog being disrupted by…something. He startled and turned around in place, looking frantically for the source. Where was he? Who was there?_

_It didn’t seem fair. He’d finally decided to give the life up, to try and be something better. Once he’d found out about her…once he’d known about his daughter…_

_Her mother was dead, slaughtered because of the man Wade had become. Slaughtered by the enemies he’d made while he carelessly murdered for more coin in his pocket. And now he was all that Ellie had left. Her entire village burned to the ground, her mother was dead, and her father…her father is a useless, dangerous mercenary._

_He sank to his knees with a sob, closing his eyes tightly. He couldn’t die, he couldn’t! Not now, dammit! He’d never cared before, but now he had a reason to keep going. He needed to protect her._

_“Stand, Wade Wilson. You will not die here,” a soft, feminine voice said through the fog. It seemed to surround him again. He looked up quickly, trying to find a source._

_“Who…” Wade tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat._

_“I said, stand. Do not give up so easily,” the voice said, a little sterner this time. Then, a figure materialized before him, an ethereal woman cloaked in black. Her eyes glowed through the shadow of her hood, her pale hand reaching out toward him._

_Slowly, the pale skin turned to bone and Wade startled at first, before the same hand gently helped him up to a standing position. “It is not your time, my darling. It may never be,” she said cryptically, looking strangely sad at that._

_Wade looked at her face, finally seeing it through the shadow and fog. A beautiful woman one second, a skeleton the next. Any questions he had for her got stuck on his tongue. He couldn’t say anything in his shock and wonder._

_“Go back now, Wade Wilson. We will meet again, though never for long...”_

Once Ellie was asleep, Peter stood carefully. He walked over to the prone form of the scarred, mysterious man. He hesitated before he sat down on his cot. He needed this man to get better. He couldn’t bear to see Ellie endure her father’s loss.

Suddenly, the man gasped awake, blue eyes flying open as he regarded his surroundings. He was quick to look for any type of weapon, but Peter reached out and grasped the man’s wrist firmly. He wouldn’t break the hold, Peter knew this.

Ever since he’d presented at sixteen, he’d noticed other changes as well. Ones that he tried to hide. An inhuman strength was among them, as well as other things that Peter hadn’t bothered exploring. He wanted nothing to do with the gifts that the gods had given him. He was no warrior. He didn’t care to fight, especially when their clan was in a time of peace.

So, he’d kept these abilities a secret from the rest of his clan. No one knew, not even his family or his closest friends. There were others who were blessed with abilities. The Priestess Wanda was among the ones with more physical abilities. However, Peter had enough on his plate. He didn’t want to add the abilities to it. No doubt his parents would fret and make him see some sort of trainer.

He forced himself to not think about those things right now and focused again on the man. He tried to count the scars that littered the mysterious man’s body again, eyes flitting over his form briefly, but he quickly lost count.

The Alpha let out a pained gasp and Peter let his hold go slightly, not wanting to hurt him. “Calm down,” Peter ordered quietly. “You’re in a hospital, you were gravely injured.” As he tried to explain, his head was reeling. The man had been comatose with substantial blood loss, and now he was alert. It seemed to be quite the sudden and unlikely change.

The mysterious man looked at him, confusion in his clear blue eyes. “Who are you? Where the fuck am I? Where…my daughter. If you’ve hurt her…!” The man growled menacingly, all Alpha tones that were definitely meant to impact Peter, an Omega, in a baser biological way.

Peter gasped as he felt the waves of pheromones, ducking his head and letting the man’s wrist go as he shook slightly in instinct. Once it had passed, however, Peter felt a wave of anger. He narrowed his eyes at the scarred man, looking absolutely indignant.

“As I’ve told you, you’re safe. So is your daughter. I would highly advise you not to take that tone with me again, Alpha,” Peter warned as he stood from the man’s cot. He saw the man’s eyes soften with some regret as he let out a tired, shaky sigh.

“Fuck, you’re right. Sorry…I just. My daughter. Can I see her? Please,” the man begged, and Peter’s anger was immediately extinguished. He was just worried about Ellie, and from their states, they’d obviously been in quite a lot of danger on the way here. No wonder it was the man’s first reaction to lash out.

“She’s here,” Peter told him in gentle tones as he stepped aside so the man could see across the room to where Ellie was sleeping softly. “She is uninjured, just extremely fatigued. Though, she has eaten, so that’s a very good sign,” he explained further.

Peter visibly saw the tension melt away from the Alpha, his shoulders slumping in relief. The man’s gaze stayed on his sleeping daughter for a moment, every line in his body and countenance screaming protectiveness. It was honestly sweet.

Suddenly, his head tilted, looking a bit curious. “Where did she get that crown thing?” He asked, his voice slightly gravely still from just having woken up. Peter glanced over and saw that she indeed was still wearing his circlet.

“Oh…that’s mine. She wanted to wear it, and I let her. I knew it would bring her comfort,” Peter explained with a small smile. He could feel a bit of heat on his cheeks, as he knew the man would make connections.

The possible mercenary hummed and turned to look at Peter again. “What are you, some sort of Lord?” He asked, shifting against the pillows and looking slightly distrusting. Hmm, perhaps he hadn’t had the best experiences with other royalty in other clans, then.

“I’m heir apparent of the Stark-Rogers clan. That’s where you are now, in the Northern capital,” Peter explained. The Stark-Rogers clan was incredibly vast since it was a joining of two clans. There was the Northern capital, where his father had grown up, and the Southern capital, where his mother had been raised. Currently, James Rhodes was Regent Lord of the Southern part, though it was all officially ruled by Peter’s three parents.

The man, surprisingly, didn’t seem to be shocked by this information. He grunted and shifted again. “Good, we made it, then. I was losing so much blood toward the end there. I tried to guide Ellie as best as I could,” the man explained, though Peter immediately had fifty more questions at least.

Peter crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s your name? There have been quite a few accusations thrown your way, you know. Some of our guards say they recognize you,” Peter said with a critical look in his eyes.

The man tensed slightly at that, but then shrugged. “Could be. I’ve got a very distinct face,” he answered with a crooked grin. “The name is Wade Wilson. I used to be military for another clan, but I deserted. I know, not super honorable…” he trailed off. “I’ve been sort of a wanderer since then until I found out about my daughter, that is.”

Peter tried to put all of that together. Wade hadn’t admitted to being a mercenary, just a deserter. Which was probably illegal in whichever clan he’d come from, but the Stark-Rogers clan didn’t prosecute soldiers seeking asylum from war. And certainly not ones with innocent daughters in tow.

“What are they saying about me? Your guards?” Wade asked curiously, something dark and knowing in the blues of his eyes. Peter suppressed a shiver, and he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something Wade wasn’t being honest about.

“They…they say you’re the masked mercenary. They say you’re Deadpool,” Peter explained, looking incredibly wary now. What exactly did Wade mean by saying he’d been a wanderer? That could mean so many things, including mercenary work.

Wade just laughed, sharp and slightly crackling. “Do they now?” He asked as he finally controlled his amusement. “You’d be surprised what people will say about a man with deformities, my prince.” He glanced up at Peter with eyes that looked like they’d seen far too much of the world. 

“Besides, if I were truly this masked horror, it wouldn’t have been very smart of me to allow those who’ve seen my face to live, now would it?” Wade asked with a crass grin.

Peter swallowed harshly and shifted in his stance, slightly unsettled. “No, I suppose not,” he answered quietly. He cleared his throat and continued, “Regardless, their accusations seem to be baseless. You will have a trial, though nothing will stand without concrete evidence. And your history as a deserter of war will not harm you here.”

As he said this, a thought entered Peter’s mind. He tilted his head, curious and possibly slightly accusing. “Though now that I think on it…if a mercenary was educated on the more liberal laws of this land, that would cause considerable motivation for him to make this clan his destination and sanctuary. For himself and his daughter, no doubt,” Peter alleged.

Wade was silent for a moment as he regarded the prince, his face serious as he stared at him unwaveringly.

“Indeed, it would.”


End file.
